stillness in movement

Taiji eases depression...but why?

2012-01-26T11:00:00.000-08:00

There was a study published about a year ago about taiji and how it helps the elderly with depression. It was important because depression is pretty tough to "combat" in the elderly due to the lack of response to medication. And of course, here in the west, medication is always the first step. (That was sarcasm. I completely apologize for it. I don't know what came over me.)

The results make taiji an excellent choice for abating depression. Here's the study if you know of really anyone of any age who is dealing with depression:

http://well.blogs.nytimes.com/2011/03/18/tai-chi-eases-depression-in-elderly/?emc=eta1

What I find interesting is that all of the studies from well known institutes never include, discuss, mention the spirit within taiji, at least of which I am aware.

They inform us about the movements (helps balance, stability, strength); educate us on breathing (helps heart rate, increases oxygen levels, helps assimilation and digestion); social stimulation (eases depression, brings sense of control), but not a mention about what the spirit is doing during all of this movement, breathing, socializing.

Are we afraid to add this when it comes to studies and taiji? Is this still too woo-woo for the general western public? Or is it because taiji teachers across the country don't incorporate this vital aspect into their classes so it isn't part of the study?

If you teach taiji, do you incorporate spirit? If not, why? Have you had potential students walk out when spirit in the form was discussed or practiced?

How does that effect your spirit?

Allusive Illusions

2011-11-02T05:59:00.000-07:00

Like illusions? This one is cool. Doesn't it look like the center is bowed?

Print it out. Get a ruler. The lines are perfectly even. It's you're brain that makes it look skewed. That's just too much information to process so the brain makes some generalizations and calls it a day.

So if that's the case, how can we really believe everything we see? How do we know the brain isn't just making generalizations in other situations we face, skewing our perception?

Look for ways your brain is evaluating, judging in order to make sense of the world around you. Sometimes the perspective is just an illusion.

2 Old Weird Tips?

2011-10-18T05:51:00.000-07:00

Have you seen the ad all over? Cause I'm just going to reveal the secret and blow the lid off the weight loss industry. No more belly fat. No more thigh flab. And best of all? You don't have to give me your email address, phone number. Nothing.

Incredible, right?

Are you ready? Cause it's comin'.

Sure?

Here they are:
1. Eat less.
2. Move more.

Sigh...sorry for the anti-climactic reality. :(

When you would like to make physical changes to your body, there really is no way around the two above tips. But for you folks who are in chronic pain most of the time, it's exceptionally tough.

Many people with chronic pain, including arthritis, fibromyalgia, chronic myofascial pain, can struggle just to get through an hour of NO exercise, let alone an hour of focused movement. I have many students come to my taiji classes hoping for a miracle that will ease their pain. They've told me stories of getting a new gym membership and trying a cycling class or yoga and staying in bed for a week due to the unbearable pain it caused. Or just vacuuming before people come to visit and never being able to enjoy their guests because the next morning, their bodies felt painfully cemented in place. Or they've tried just taking a walk, but the natural swinging of their arms put them into such a cycle of pain, that they just gave up.

If this sounds familiar don't fret. There are possible solutions. Taiji and yoga are lovely options, but they aren't simple, easy routines for every body. Many styles are extremely strenuous and depending on the teacher, options and modifications may not be available.

So, what is a person in chronic pain to do? Well, here are TWO OLD WEIRD TIPS!

Old Weird Tip ONE:
Make a list of all of your weekly activities that require movement:
1. Grocery shopping
2. Washing, drying and putting dishes away
3. Cleaning
4. Laundry
5. Yard work
6. Animal care
7. Cooking

These are activities for daily living and they all require movement. If you are doing any or all of these, wonderful (my next post will focus on YOU)! For those who have given these activities to family members or friends due to your pain level, then this is where you begin, young grasshopper, to add movement back into your life.

Don't take on all of the household chores. The next time dishes need to be put away, allow yourself to do it. OR (not AND), if there is laundry to separate, separate it. Then it's time for Old Weird Tip #2.

Old Weird Tip TWO:
Write down how you feel as you add movement back into your life. Did you have pain? Where is the pain? What was the movement? Did you do too much? Next time, do only one load of laundry. Or, empty the top half of the dishwasher. Do you feel like you could have done more? Add one of your chores to your list. Do you feel good? Stay the course!

The hardest part of movement and chronic pain is being patient with trying to figure out what is enough movement and what is too much. Sometimes it feel as though the line is so incredibly thin, you'll want to give up. Be exceptionally patient with yourself. There will be times that you will do too much. And times when you won't. Just keep actively doing what you can and build only when you've had good, stable success with your current activities.

For those who are moving actively through the day, I have other suggestions including NOT starting weight bearing exercises. Just say no for now. For chronic pain, e a s i n g into movement is vital. Actively working on posture and relaxation is a perfect way to enter. How? Next post, gentle reader.

An additional thought:
First of all, I've grown to dislike the meaning behind the word "exercise." I like "be a goofball" instead. As adults, sadly, we can't run down the street like a maniac with our arms flailing about yelling "whoop! whooooop! whooooooop!" Or like Pheobe in "Friends" . That was just awesome.

It's okay...take the time

2011-10-15T11:52:00.000-07:00

Sometimes simplest of moments are lost when we don't just force ourselves to stop.

Follow your instincts to stop and watch. Or listen.
You can have these moments. It will be okay.
Stop.
Notice.
Immerse yourself in the moment and breathe.

Surrender Dorothy

2011-10-12T11:16:00.000-07:00

I'm thinking about surrendering....again.

I have tried it before.
It did work.

Until I stopped.
And started resisting.

Not really, resisting...but

-RE.

-SIST.

-ING.

Not resisting a hunk of dark chocolate, or resisting hitting the snooze button again, or even resisting the urge to sneak up on my cat and scare the crap out of him. (I don't do that anymore.)

I'm resisting evaluations. Of everything.

Overthinking. Judging. Evaluating.

You're wrong! (He's creepy looking.) What a idiotic driver! Wow, you're daughter is beautiful! Hey, you've lost weight! God, he looks awful.

It's not the worst thing in the world, evaluating. It's not murder.

But years and years of evaluations, building from the beginning of our lives, changes us. Changes how we see ourselves, how we feel about ourselves. Especially when it comes from the people who are supposed to love you unconditionally.

You're fat. You're stupid. You'll never learn. You're so selfish. Why are you so weird?

The only way to stop it, is to stop doing it. So, I'm practicing. Surrendering the urge to evaluate my children, my husband, strangers, myself. Surrendering the urge to evaluate how others evaluate me.

Letting it go. Surrendering it all and letting each moment be what it is. Not letting past noise distort this moment right now.

Discovering what is

2011-10-07T06:03:00.000-07:00

Finding beauty in what I'm told had none. Seeing what is overlooked now. Finding purpose in what I was told was no longer of use. Use. No use. Is. Isn't. Good. Bad. Ugly. Beautiful. Bah.

Being

2011-10-03T05:30:00.000-07:00

Quiet drops develop. There they are. Just being. Quiet within the noise. Stillness within movement.

Grounded

2010-01-21T06:06:00.000-08:00

You know, the meaning of the word "grounded" has shifted so much in my lifetime.

I cringed at the word as a teen.
Felt proud of it during karate in my early 20s.
Played with the emotional aspects of it in my late 20s.
Was amazed by it during my 30s.

This word has re-made itself more times than William Shatner.

As a young taiji player, I pictured "grounded" as being strongly rooted in my stance. Unmovable. Solid. A tree. A tree with roots so big and juicy, pulling in nutrients from rich black soil. No way would anyone be able to push me over.

But I noticed something as my practice deepened. My movements were very solid and strong, but something was missing. When I practiced "Beautiful Maiden Weaves the Shuttles" (a.k.a. Four Corners) as I transitioned from one corner to the next, I felt a little clunky, uncoordinated, not so grounded.

It was then that I realized my definition of "groundedness" had blinders. My connection was only going down.

Magnetically rooted to the spot, my agility and lightness of foot was...no where.

Until it finally dawned on me.

What about grounding upward? What about the little string that holds you up?** The crown of the head, the bahui, connecting me magnetically to the sky?

This thought blew me away. Being aware of my connection (groundedness) toward the sky was an amazing awakening for me. Upward groundedness? Really??

This thought led me even further to believe that groundedness is full spectrum. Not just magnetically connected to the earth and the sky, but to everything around me. Again, the definition had changed!

It transformed me. I became grounded...in being. My taiji became a whole-body, connected, immersed-in-the-moment movement. Try saying that five times.

Not that I'm connected in this manner every time. My foundations (up, down and out!) shake at times. I'm not always completely connected. But that whole body feeling, connected and grounded in everything is an amazing, freeing feeling. So much richer than what I was practicing.

**Mine has never been a "little string". Puh-lease. Like that thing is going to hold me up. I picture more of a steel cable. ;)

"Let no man pull you low enough to hate him." -Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.

2010-01-18T08:57:00.000-08:00

Thoughtless observer

2010-01-14T13:23:00.000-08:00

Last night in class we were working on observing. Just observing. Losing the thinking mind and just practicing being in the moment.

It's simple, but in a traditional, typical day, it's something most people (in the U.S.) don't do.

So we practiced standing: feet hip width apart, feeling the entire foot on the floor, with the most of the weight focused at the ball of the foot.

Knees are soft, slighty bent.

Pelvis is relaxed, and just tilted forward, without tensing the stomach or lower back muscles. Just enough so that the curve in the lower spine is lessened.

Shoulders are in their natural curved state.

The neck is relaxed.

The crown of the head is the highest point. (Place the thumb on one clavicle and the third finger on the other. Allow the index finger to reach up toward the chin. Does it touch the chin? If not, lower the chin so it does. Does the finger reach the divit between the chin and the lips or even highter? Raise the head slightly so the index finger gently touches the chin. This is a good guideline for making sure the crown of the head the highest point.)

Stand in this posture and just bring your attention to the palms of your hands. Don't think about them in your head. Don't imagine what they feel like, really FEEL them.

Do you feel a gentle pulse from blood flow? Do you feel air passing by the palms? Just observe what you feel, without evaluating, judging. Just feel.

Do you sense a fullness in the hands? Tingling? Heat? Coolness? Nothing?

Whatever you sense, or don't sense, is okay. You're just here to observe. What you sense is just...what you sense. There is no good, bad, right, wrong.

In class, as we move deeper into this kind of practice, we bring our attention to a bigger part of the body, moving up the arms, adding the torso, the legs, the feet, the head.

As we really sense the body, just observing the changes, the delicate movements, shifts in balance, pulsing, qi, we practice not only being present in the moment, we become aware of the subtle messages we get from our bodies, others bodies and from the environment around us.

The practice moves from the body to just outside. Being aware of the space just outside of our body, connecting into it. Deeper practice allows one to feel connected to everything in the room. Be aware of where things are, if they shift or change.

This is what internal arts masters are so in tune with. This is why, when you try to strike a master, they know your move before it even comes. And you're down on the ground wondering what happened.

People who have trained so deeply to be in tune to their environment aren't separate from it. This is why they respond so swiftly and accurately. There is no pause. There is no "re"action. There just is.

Happy practicing.

The art of faking

2010-01-09T13:28:00.000-08:00

Piglet sidled up to Pooh from behind, "Pooh! " he whispered.

"Yes, Piglet?"

"Nothing," said Piglet, taking Pooh's paw. "I just wanted to be sure of you."

-A.A. Milne

I was reminded recently of what a pain in the ass change can be.

I am sitting in my car flipping through the stations when I come across a talk show host's bombastic speech about the foundation of our economy crumbling due to a political party that is riddled with mismanagement and scandal and I started spewing terse, venom-dripping words back at the host, while my heart rate increased and my left-brain, judgment-inspired head began to swim with anger.

I completely forgot!

I don't do that anymore! How embarrassing!

So I take a quick look around at the other cars to make sure no one saw me shaking my fist and yelling at the radio. Thank the universe for tinted windows. Get composure and start faking internal peace.

I practice non-judgment, wu-wei, connectedness!! The host's thoughts may not represent mine, but we live the unity of life! Peace be with you!

Until the next time I slip and bawl you out in the privacy of my car.

But seriously, I AM working on NOT increasing my heart rate because of the thoughts I create in my head about current events (or other things)...so what is this?

Am I a fake?

Or am I just practicing?

Does it matter? I s'pose to me it does. Like Piglet likes to be sure of Pooh, I'd like to be sure of me. And so, as the 12 steppers go, so do I: Fake it till you make it. I just change the talk show host preset button off my radio dial until I'm grown-up enough to handle it.

And the beauty of it, I think, is that it doesn't matter if I "make it" or not. It's all just practice.

***

Just wondering...

I'm not sure how to word this. But it comes into my head each and every time I begin giving birth to a new post. Well...here it is:

What's the point?

As in, 'What is the point of writing when really, none of it matters?' In the scheme of things, what does it matter if I enjoy tai chi?

"Oh honey, look! Lucy's found a little hobby that makes her happy. It's called tai chi and it's on the computer! Isn't that nice?"

I sit back sometimes after reflecting and writing and I often find myself thinking: "Blah, blah, blah, whatever. We've all read it before, felt it before, performed it before. Shut up already."

Is that familiar to anyone else?

Daydreaming at night

2010-01-06T06:41:00.001-08:00

When I was young ...well, I still AM young and I will defend that position. Who wants to take me on? huh? HUH? :) But when I was REALLY young, say 7 or 8, I used to lay on my bunk bed unable to sleep, day dreaming at night. Sometimes it was the top bunk, sometimes the bottom, just depended upon what was going on in our house.

My sister and I shared a room. I was younger so I defaulted to the bottom bunk. But if my sister pissed my mom off, she was demoted to the bottom and I gained the upper. In my memory, we switched around.

So when I lay there dreaming, I stared either at a white ceiling or at the brown bars supporting the upper bunkie board. I wasn't really looking at anything.

I was pretending to be water.

I imagined being water in a creek, feeling myself floating over pebbles and stones, shifting my shape to any creek structure. Eddying off to the side and rolling out again. Carrying fallen leaves. A stick. Moving quickly in some places. Slowly in others. Curving into each new turn, new fall. Supple. Relaxed.

So when we were thrown out of our bunk beds at 2 a.m. by a crazed woman who wanted our rooms clean RIGHT THEN, I had a place to go in my mind. Through the screaming and hits, through ducking books, games, clothing, I had a place.

From the outside, the insanity of an alcoholism-driven home can be terrifying. Most times, it drives others away. Baffled at what to do. Full of pity.

But through the clouded days of unpredictability, where soft, shaky footsteps could precipitate punches, loathing and glaring, feelings of despised worthlessness, something within grew. In the gentle movements of a creek, quietly staring, my mindfulness training began.

I had no idea that this would become a practice - not only mental, but physical. The relaxed postures of taiji that flow from one to the next, nice, even breaths, mind empty, intention clear. Taiji was my creek in a different form.

The craziness of growing up forced a balance within me and damned if I'm not thankful for it now. I'm thankful it was blatant. I'm thankful it was admitted. I'm thankful that it forced me to dream.

I just need to work on staying in that centered, imperturbable space when chaos hits the fan. :)

...

Hey, I don't know how the heck I did it, but I deleted my last post! How does one do that without knowing? Maybe I better rethink defending my youthfulness.

Anyway, graduate school is on pause. My 50% cost reduction was erased when my husband was part of the University cuts. So...another curve in the stream to ride!

It's been a while, but I've been preoccupied...

2009-10-01T05:58:00.000-07:00

I'm studying for my GRE. Thought I'd go back to school for my Masters in Somatics (study of Mind/Body). So...I'm preparing for the quantitative (i.e. Math) portion. I'm staring at the above equation, but really, all of my energy is focused on my writing hand.

My writing hand is holding a sharp pencil.

That it wants to jam into my left eye.

I wasn't so great at Algebra 25 years ago. And now I'm trying to remember what I wasn't so great at from 25 years ago.

So here's what I've noticed about myself when making the choice to shift my life's "direction" in a fairly substantial way: I tend to fall back into habits and behaviors I thought I had left far, far behind.

Top of the list:

Complete Non-Communication with Those I Love: In this state, people should know instinctively what my momentary emotional status is, AND shift their state to benefit mine WITHOUT me having to say anything. I shouldn't have to ask for anything to be done, I shouldn't have to tell anyone to do anything, it should all just BE as I have it pictured in my head. Thanks.

Complete Self Downtalk: Dusty old 8 tracks are spiffing themselves up to replay nasty messages in my head: You can barely juggle what you have NOW! How are you going to juggle graduate school!? You aren't smart enough anyway, moron. And how selfish can you possibly be? So what if you hate what you were doing? Suck it up and get back to your job because your kids have braces and glasses up the hill and college around the corner. You've already blown any kind of hope for retirement.

Complete Fear-Based Mania - Oh my God, what if you don't pass the GRE? What are you going to tell everyone? You'll have to tell everyone! Oh...how embarrassing for you! Aren't you ashamed already? Don't you feel that?

The Sucker Punch: Oh, please. You're way too old to go back to school.

As these thoughts rise to the surface of my consciousness, for a brief moment, just a waning pause, I believe the voice! I go right along with it. And then clarity dawns on me and I have to laugh at myself. The animated movie "Aristocats" pops into my head. Do you remember that movie? My internal movie screen starts at the part where the old pack leader hound dog realizes he's following the ideas of another dog and says "Wait a minute! I'm the leader!"

And that's how I feel!

So that's where I am...and I have to say that if it weren't for the grounding practice of taiji - and the great family of players that surrounds me - I'm not sure where that pencil would be.

Sitting in some dusty drawer, but certainly not challenging me.

Climactic stillness

2009-05-04T05:13:00.000-07:00

So a while back I found myself walking down a labyrinth path trying not to pass gas loudly.

Why is it that any time I have indigestion and I'm with a group of people, it's loud indigestion in silent surroundings? Why is it that when walking and trying to respectfully release one quietly it squeaks out past the cheeks with every step? It's like a dirty music cd that keeps blipping back to the same note over and over and over again. I hate that.

And what the heck do you say? I was outdoors in a sacred space where people are emptying their minds of thoughts, breathing fresh air, and savoring the silence.

Well, two oughta three ain't bad.

Okay, enough about escaping nitrogen.

I took a moment to breath in some fresh air (pre-gastrointestinal) and prepare my left brain for a rest. My left hemisphere, when it's engaged for a long time, has a really difficult time letting go of control, I've found. It takes a while for the left brain's sarcastic, cynical comments to dissolve (even when they are supposedly for humor), the harsh judgments and evaluations to ease, so I can hear the open-minded right brain's observations. As I begin with just a few steps through the opening of the labyrinth, my right brain engages: "Whoa. That's cool! Did you feel that energy?" And, of course, the left brain can't possibly let that one go by: "Yeah. It's called indigestion, you freak."

Funny thing about the right brain, though. It attaches no emotion to anything the left brain puts forth. It's really genuinely unaware. Instead, it keeps observing, "Oh! Yes! I felt that too, but what I was talking about was different from indigestion. It's a little more subtle."

So with each step I try to release the left brain's "this is so freakishly woo-woo-ey, why am I doing this" attitude and engaging the right brain's trust that a quiet reconnection is just exactly what I need. Maybe...just maybe...the indigestion is related directly to the left brain addiction of late.

Each step releases just a little more of the left brain. My recent urge to wrap my daughter in loving protection from some aggressive, but typical, school girl behavior. Fears about a student's cancer. Worries about reaching deadlines, getting paid. Concerns about my husband's happiness at work. Disgust in walking across the kitchen floor's filth.

None of the thoughts or emotions are necessary. But all of them fully there. And with every step in the labyrinth, the emotions dissolve, replaced by a centered space of emptiness. My left brain has quieted. It’s not sarcastically criticizing my right brain thoughts of letting go, feeling each pressure point of every step I take. It’s allowing the right brain equal time. The right brain needs to stop and feel this labyrinth, the other people who are walking it, the air, the connectedness.

The layers come off, sometimes thick, weighty, substantial ones. Sometimes so thin, so insubstantial that they’re actually even more noticeable.

The path winds itself, turns, pools in certain areas. At first I feel it as stagnation, then no, just a pause. Yin to balance out yang.

And only when I realize I’m in the labyrinth's center do I feel completely present. The path has done its work.

I am free.

Sitting in the center, just existing in wuji (in simple terms: nothingness), is really powerful. I sit for some time drinking it in. Savoring the space.

And the time to return comes. Back through the winding path I feel clear, light – at times almost giddy. There were others walking back, some talking softly with each other. Some moving a bit more quickly than they were on the way in. A little less reflective. And before I even realize it my left brain is re-engaged and spewing out my list of things I have to get done.

I stopped in the path blown away that I wasn’t allowing this part of the experience equal attention. Where else do I do this in life? During family celebrations, do I have a tendency to work really hard cooking, cleaning, tending to people, just to get to the celebration and then collapse afterward? At work, do I put it into full gear to make it to the deadline, only to collapse again and possibly get sick afterward? In Taijiquan, do I put much more intention into the yang application and gloss over yin?

There is great strength in the yin phase. In life, it can be a time for pause, reflection, healing, awareness, preparedness. And in this labyrinth, I was letting it go. So I stood – once again reconnecting. Enjoying the hard work of letting go, maintaining the balance.

Being in the moment. Just being.

Walking through the archway that led out, I made a commitment to myself to be aware of every yin phase in my life and give it the respect it deserves. No glossing over just to get to the excitement of the yang. Being present: beginning, middle and end.

Taking sides

2009-04-21T16:10:00.000-07:00

Verse 5 of the Tao Te Ching

The Tao doesn't take sides;
it gives birth to both good and evil.
The Master doesn't take sides
she welcomes both saints and sinner.

The Tao is like a bellows;
it is empty yet infinitely capable.
The more you use it, the more it produces,
the more you talk of it, the less you understand.

Hold on to the centre.

I don't know about you, but I was raised to take a stand. If there was an injustice, I was taught to expose it, shame the producers of it, and then eradicate it.

I was the offspring of Civil Rights Movement parents who really worked toward equality between black and white people in the United States. They worked to erase redlining in housing districts, put an end to police violence and profiling, balance the massive educational inequalities, and obliterate inhumane treatment of African Americans. Civil Rights advocates brought justice to criminals who carried out racist acts or allowed them to happen. Advocates worked to remove racists from office or at least jail them for their crimes. It was a divisive time. People were polarized. Even those working to erase racial lines were drawing lines of their own: Rich vs. poor. Young vs. old ("Don't trust anyone over 30"). Republican vs. democrat.

It was fuel for the fire of change.

So talking about not taking sides isn't an easy one for me. Clearly, aren't sides important? Wasn't all of that work for equality for a reason? Clearly, CLEARLY, we have things to accomplish still in the area of civil rights - but doesn't the civil rights movement beautifully illustrate that taking sides, making a stand, IS important?

So living in "Tao" is living without taking sides? How can I possibly do this in this world of inequality, oppression, hatred? How can one do that when we so value describing people things as beautiful or ugly, smart or stupid, worthless or an idol?

The first time I read this, I shook my head. That is, until I read the last sentence. Hold on to the centre. That stuck me in the gut. And the image I have in my brain, looking back (although I was pretty darned young during the 60s and 70s), is that we, as a nation, were so far away from the center that a jolt back to it had to come. The country was so divided. So angry. So opinionated. So frustrated (hmmm...this sounds familiar...). So oppressed.

Something had to give. Something bold had to explode from such a culmination of the energy of a nation of people at a boiling point.

And maybe it knocked us back toward the center. Maybe that was the overall point.

Living closer to the center, i.e. in balance, I know that I no longer feel the need to take a side, judge good and evil, separate sinners and saints. When I'm balanced, the need just isn't there. And honestly, I have the ability to be both saint or sinner for a reason. We need both - balance.

I'm not advocating going out and committing crimes, and then turning around and sincerely apologizing in order to stay in balance. But I am beginning to see that evaluating what is right/wrong, good/bad, painful/pleasant is useless because in the long run it all just...is. In the big picture, not in specific circumstances, it all just is. Whether by mistake or by intention.

What happens in life, whether it's on a personal or national level, just is. Like the bellows opening and closing. It may be fanning the flame to make it grow. It may just blow the flame out. Either way it isn't the end. Just a shift. Another flame comes. Infinitely capable.

So now I'm going to quit chatting about it, clear out the drama, stay centered and live.

See ya.

Other translations:

Nature is not kind;
It treats all things impartially.
The Sage is not kind,
And treats all people impartially.
Nature is like a bellows,
Empty, yet never ceasing its supply.
The more it moves, the more it yields;
So the sage draws upon experience
And cannot be exhausted.

translation by P. Merel

Nature acts without intent,
so cannot be described
as acting with benevolence,
nor malevolence to any thing.

In this respect, the Tao is just the same,
though in reality it should be said
that nature follows the rule of Tao.

Therefore, even when he seems to act
in manner kind or benevolent,
the sage is not acting with such intent,
for in conscious matters such as these,
he is amoral and indifferent.

The sage retains tranquility,
and is not by speech or thought disturbed,
and even less by action which is contrived.
His actions are spontaneous,
as are his deeds towards his fellow men.

By this means he is empty of desire,
and his energy is not drained from him.

-S. Rosenthal

Defining the Undefinable

2009-03-02T09:43:00.000-08:00

Tao Te Ching Verse 4
I'm a bit warmer to this translation but I'll add Steven Mitchell's below it:

The Tao is an empty vessel; it is used, but never filled.
Oh, unfathomable source of ten thousand things!
Blunt the sharpness,
Untangle the knot,
Soften the glare,
Merge with dust.
Oh, hidden deep but ever present!
I do not know from whence it comes.
It is the forefather of the emperors.

Steven Mitchell's version:

The Tao is like a well:
Used, but never used up
It is like the eternal void:
filled with infinite possibilities.

It is hidden but always present.
I don't know who gave birth to it.
It is older than God.

I used to think that the Tao was another name we could give 'love'. Love is unending. Like the eternal void in this verse. Filled with possibility. Love guides, connects, fills.

When I feel really connected, not only with people around me, but with the moment (you know, not spending this moment thinking about all of the things I have to do, or maybe should have done, or possibly could have done...) I feel love. I am moved to act in loving ways. Listening deeply. Responding instead of reacting. Being instead of doing.

But there have been just as many times when I've been moved by anger...seemingly unending anger! Usually it happens when I've allowed myself to take on much more than I'm able to do and I've had enough. Enough deadlines, caretaking, phone calls, cleaning, emotional drama, disrespect from clients and family, cat hair. You know: enough. And to cut it all off quickly I throw out a few select sharp words in a tone and volume no one can misunderstand - and just for good measure some loud noise like a door slamming or a pounding fist. Whichever seems to be the most effective in making a quick change in the immediate circumstance. The anger gave me what I needed: solitude, disconnection, clearing out. I said yes to too many people, let my boundaries down and I had to have a quick and dirty retreat. At the moment anger was a means to an end.

So if love is Tao, shouldn't anger be Tao also? Anger sometimes feels unending: used, but never used up. Many times filled with infinite possibilities.

And I think back to all of the times anger has saved me over the years. Anger, initially, can spark dramatic change. I remember giving birth to my first child. The umbilical cord was prolapsed, cutting off oxygen to my daughter. The doctor told the staff to prep me now for immediate surgery, so they started milling about to prepare. The doctor dropped into a fury: "I SAID NOW!!" he boomed. His anger (and fear of possibly losing the baby) shook them up and we were in surgery in no time. It was amazing. It was also anger that saved me, when in college, from being pulled down an alley by two drunk young men - fighting and yelling in anger made them take off. It was initially anger, a few years ago, that made me defend several young kids who were being lured into a fight by boys seven to eight years older.

Anger isn't the Tao. No emotion is. Not love. Not peace. Not anger. Tao is not a feeling.

But we always feel better when we can define, describe, compare, evaluate what something is. We have such a need to define that we sometimes do it by what it is not! Because with these descriptions, definitions, comparisons, evaluations...we feel that we know. We understand.

And above all, we have to understand. Wrap our brains around it. Know.

This is how I approached understanding "Tao". This was the only way I knew how to approach it. Break it down into what it's made of, how it works, what it feels like, looks like, tastes like, smells like.

But Tao is different. I had to get over that. Because it is none of those things. It just is.

And to understand it, I really had to work hard. I worked to blunt my sharpness: to stop defining what everything is and is not. Worked to untangle my knots: my stress, anger, love, happiness, curiosity. I had to soften my glare: no more judgment, evaluations, constant thinking. I had to merge with the dust: for a moment, just a moment, believe that I am not separate from anything - ANYTHING: from the stained carpet beneath my feet, from the barking dog outside, from wars beyond my country's borders, from miniscule ants living under rocks, from the garbage lying in the bins outside.

The more I am able to smooth, untangle, soften, merge life's circumstances, that's when I begin to understand Tao, and only then. Because when I don't get it, I realize I'm trying too hard.

There really isn't anything to get.

There is only to be.

Frolicking through the Pedestals

2009-02-18T11:20:00.000-08:00

We've been looking at verses from the Tao Te Ching. Reminder: We're on #3!

Here it is:

If you overesteem great men,
people become powerless.
If you overvalue possessions,
people begin to steal.

The Master leads by emptying people's minds
and filling their cores,
by weakening their ambition
and toughening their resolve.
He helps people lose everything
they know, everything they desire,
and creates confusion
in those who think that they know.

Practice not-doing,
and everything will fall into place.

It's a dangerous place, the pedestal. Whether you're on it, or looking up at it.

So this week I had a great example of pedestelian proportions. Sure, it isn't a word, pedestelian, but it should be, shouldn't it? It's fun to write and say. You can say it really quickly in a sentence and sound scholarly, "Pedestelian." Or in a big booming voice, like a political leader on an ego trip: PEDESTELIAN! Try it! Fun.

Anyway, I had a great couple of days working with someone who was on a pedestal. I didn't put him there, but so many others had that trying to talk to him from such a distance was difficult. I must add that he worked it to stay up there.

Our "company" was working with this gentleman who has great talent in our field of work. People love his style, his attention to detail, and in our field, he is one of the top players. Needless to say, over time he has gathered a good following. People respect his work and ask him to present his abilities in workshops and seminars. He's good! And a lot of our clients are his clients.

With his popularity, however came power. Our company's board of directors allowed him to control and influence decisions because his name brings in the money. The company board of directors were ultimately afraid of losing a large number of clients and therefore continually bent over backwards to please him.

For every person looking down from their pedestal there are those beneath them looking up. You can't have one without the other. Yin and yang.

This is clearly how people become powerless. Even though they've helped to create the powerlessness.

So Lao Tzu, the author of the Tao Te Ching, challenges us to be our own "Masters" (a person who is at peace) instead of putting others on pedestals by clearing our minds of evaluation and returning to simplicity. In other words going back to your core, your original identity. Not your job title, your associations, illness you live with, hobby or any other external device you cling to.

This verse is saying empty your mind of your expectations (I should have been... I could have been... I used to be...) of your ambitions (I need a widescreen T.V... I thought I would have 2 children by now... I should have been promoted WAY before that lady) and experience the peace of not-doing.

Well, as usual, it's much easier to read this stuff than to do it.

I've a family to feed and shelter and educate. I can't drop everything to frolic naked in the woods among woodland creatures tapping into the joys of freedom all day.

And I would certainly be arrested.

But is this verse asking us to do that? What Lao Tzu writes is those who are "Masters" in life behave as if they're frolicking even when they've been passed over for that promotion, even when they haven't had two children, even when they're home is widescreen TV challenged. Because none of that shit matters, honestly. When you're in the midst of it, it feels like it's the ONLY thing that matters. (And now you know how a teenager feels every waking moment of his/her teenage life.)

When he writes: "practice not doing, and everything will fall into place" he isn't suggesting to get rid of your job and possessions and pick a spot in the wilderness to meditate for the rest of your life. He's saying get rid of your mind's obsessions and LIVE. Go frolic wherever you happen to be. Work. Cleaning you home. Playing with kids. Running errands. Paying taxes. Grocery shopping. (Mental note: long lines vanish when you frolic here.)

This verse is saying to me: I don't care about the letters after your name. I don't care about your title, your demographics, your accomplishments. I don't care if you are a garbage man or a Sanitary Engineer. Secretary or Administrative Assistant. Homemaker or Ma. Nothing in those descriptions change but our internal evaluation of them. And the second verse of this book has already uncovered evaluation as a ridiculous mind game.

Quit playing.

Yeah. A lot easier to say than to continually do.

One of the things I do daily is raise my children. (This is a perfect setup for a self-deprecating slice of humor, but I will resist.) Anyway, sometimes, when one of my children is telling me something, I find myself listening as "The Parent."

'Now,' I say to myself while my daughter's mouth is moving and I am partially listening to her words, 'being the "parent," how should I respond to this outpouring from my child in an instructional and meaningful way? How can I bestow knowledge to her to make her strong and self-sufficient? How can I use this moment to reach out and connect with her?"

How about shutting up and listening??

Honestly. Is that the way you would want someone you love to respond to you? All heady, clinical and distant? That response is from someone playing the role of "Mother." That's someone "doing" Mother.

There are other times when I do look into their faces and hear them. And it's just me. Present. I may not even have any answers for them when they're finished talking. They aren't usually necessary anyway. And that's when I'm "not-doing" Mother. I just am.

Practice not doing, and everything will fall into place. It makes sense.

Your thoughts?

Part B: Tao Te Ching V. 2

2009-02-11T11:42:00.000-08:00

I posted about this verse earlier in the month, but I had to split it up because there's such depth to its simplicity. For those who haven't read it, I've pasted a copy of the entire verse at the end of this post.

Lao Tzu spends a great amount of time writing about the worthlessness of spending time judging and evaluating: whether it's about a situation, a person, an act, a behavior. What he simply states is that seeing things as they are, without having to qualify, evaluate, or label leads to a much happier, less stressful way of living. Living in the flow of life, rather than fighting against it.

Put yourself into a situation where you might judge someone. In fact, I'll offer up a scenario that I've seen play out. Let's say you just moved into a new home. It's spring. Everything is green and lush. And as the summer approaches you notice little flags decorating your neighbors' yards warning people that their lawns have been doused with chemicals. "Idiots!" you cry as you watch your cat walk across the neighbor's lawn looking for small rodents to chew. "These idiots care more about their curb appeal than they do the environment they're poisoning!!" You run after your cat, ready to give your neighbor an earful of organic gardening advice.

Or, if that doesn't fit, try this one: let's say you just moved into a new fixer-upper home. It's spring. Everything is green and lush. As the summer approaches you notice little yellow dandelion heads emerging from your neighbors' yards. Your yard is the only one that is tightly manicured. "Idiots!" you cry as you watch your cat walk across their weed-ridden lawn looking for small rodents to chew. "These idiots don't give a damned about their homes! Look at this street! No matter what I do to this house, there's no way it'll sell well with these surroundings!" You charge outside ready to give you neighbor an earful about lawn maintenance.

"When people see some things as beautiful,
other things become ugly.
When people see some things as good,
other things become bad."

Now, what Lao Tzu offers as an alternative to hating your chemical- or organic-happy neighbors is this: we will all be faced with life situations that challenge us to either judge or observe. So when he writes the following:

Being and non-being create each other.
Difficult and easy support each other.
Long and short define each other.
High and low depend on each other.
Before and after follow each other.

what he is saying is both sides of every story, of every event, of every life situation will always be there. Whether difficult or easy, long or short, high, low, before, after. These will always be. Do you want to wrap yourself up in the emotion of these situations? Do you want to increase your anger, irritation, frustration? Or would you rather observe the situation, connect with those involved, agree to disagree and move on without the drama?

'Well, sure, Lao. I'd rather observe to save my blood pressure. But you don't understand, cause your old. And dead. Here's the deal: People who spray their lawns are idiots! I need to let them know this. I must educate them.'

He's got an answer to that as well:

Therefore the Master
acts without doing anything
and teaches without saying anything.
Things arise and she lets them come
things disappear and she lets them go.
She has but doesn't possess,
acts but doesn't expect.
When her work is done, she forgets it.
That is why it lasts forever.

You act without doing anything: you just live. Work on your organic lawn. Who knows, maybe you'll inspire a neighbor to do the same. But Lao Tzu doesn't even care about that egoic thought. He's just sayin': live, without expectation, without judgment, without evaluating every step. Just live. Go, without ego, GO.

I don't know about you, but to me, THAT's the way I want to live. Simple.

But not easy.

Oh, man, it takes work to be an observer. A couple of nights ago at a movie theater I watched a couple bring their young children into a violent "R" rated movie. I had a really hard time "observing" that one. I have a hard time"observing" anything I read or watch that is political. I have a hard time "observing" the bagger lady who beats up my groceries.

But those times when I can? Like when someone cuts me off on the highway? Or when my purse or phone is stolen? Or when I am dismissed in a business meeting because I'm female (yes, it still happens). But for some reason, those things don't trigger my judge. Although I may not agree with the situation, I can understand it. I understand people who may be in a panicked rush on the highway. I understand people who are desperate enough to steal. I can understand prejudice. It just is and I understand it.

The practice of observing doesn't mean that you agree or disagree. That's making a judgment. The practice of observing is allowing it to be: no rising blood pressure, no frustration, no excitement. Not attached to the outcome.

I always get the image of a screen filter. When I'm observing, the mesh of the filter is very forgiving and open. It allows things to flow. My emotions are even and welcoming. I feel warm and inviting.

When I'm critical and full of evaluations, the filter is speck fine. Everything gets trapped. I feel irritated. I don't let anyone get away with anything. I feel critical, calculating, frustrated, angry.

During those times, I really need tai chi.

For me, Tai Chi puts into a physical form the ability to observe. Moving through the postures, I empty my mind of everything (...or try) and bring my intention and attention to the present moment, feeling my way through each movement. I observe the texture of the movements, the inhale, the exhale. I feel them without judging, without criticizing myself for not doing it "perfectly." It's minutes out of a day where I practice holding the space of "being." And working toward taking that space with me for the rest of the day.

Peace.

Verse 2

When people see some things as beautiful,
other things become ugly.
When people see some things as good,
other things become bad.

Being and non-being create each other.
Difficult and easy support each other.
Long and short define each other.
High and low depend on each other.
Before and after follow each other.

Therefore the Master
acts without doing anything
and teaches without saying anything.
Things arise and she lets them come'
things disappear and she lets them go.

She has but doesn't possess,
acts but doesn't expect.
When her work is done, she forgets it.
That is why it lasts forever.

Tao Te Ching V. 2 :

2009-02-02T11:26:00.000-08:00

So here we go with verse 2, which has so much in it that I'm going to split it up a bit...feel free to help me out with your own thoughts, experiences, opinions.

When people see some things as beautiful,
other things become ugly.
When people see some things as good,
other things become bad.

Being and non-being create each other.
Difficult and easy support each other.
Long and short define each other.
High and low depend on each other.
Before and after follow each other.

Therefore the Master
acts without doing anything
and teaches without saying anything.
Things arise and she lets them come'
things disappear and she lets them go.
She has but doesn't possess,
acts but doesn't expect.
When her work is done, she forgets it.
That is why it lasts forever.

Just a note before digging in: "Master" is, in my estimation, a term used for someone who is at peace with whatever happens to be. No matter what. Someone unrattled by emotional family situations, tight work deadlines, or the fine line between losing your house and paying your mortgage for the next month.

I've never met this kind of a master.

It'd be so cool to meet someone like that, wouldn't it? Or maybe not....now that I think about it, I might just be immature enough to try over and over and over to rattle him or her. Like a little kid extending his finger just close enough to his neighbor to annoy. "I'm not touching you. I'm not touching you. I'm not touching you."

So in this verse, seems like Lao Tzu wanted people to know that evaluating everything is pretty much a waste of time. Things just...are.

Crap...can I live with that?

I've had a lifetime of being judged and judging situations as good or bad; friends as true or untrue; family members as ignorant or enlightened; the workplace as the root of insanity or salvation! I'd have to live in silence on a mountaintop to live as if things just...are.

But maybe not...

I had a friend who was late for everything. Not only late for everything, but depended upon me to take her places because her car was usually in an impound lot. I always told her to meet me 1/2 hour early because I knew she would be at least a 1/2 hour late. (I swear she had her own time zone.) It happened a lot. I was angry a lot. She was so late to her own birthday dinner that we all ate without her. She showed up late to 3 weddings - two of which she was in - causing stress on many levels. We all tried talking to her, helping in any way we could, but mostly ended up feeling really frustrated and angry.

Until this verse of the Tao Te Ching bitch-slapped me in the face.

Therefore the Master/ acts without doing anything/ and teaches without saying anything. Things arise and she lets them come/ things disappear and she lets them go.

My friend was notoriously late. I knew that. So if I am going to make dinner reservations, I better be prepared to eat alone. If I am giving her a ride and she doesn't arrive on time, I better be prepared to leave without her. And without judgment, criticism or grudging. Whether it's judging silently inside or worse, behind her back with friends. It had to stop.

So I stopped waiting. If she doesn't show, I choose to do something else, knowing that that is a good possibility. And it is so incredibly freeing. I'm not waiting in anger. I'm not anticipating. I'm not criticizing myself or her.

Being alone on that mountaintop would be great! But I'd miss my family and friends. Even when they're two hours late.

Understanding "The Way"

2009-01-29T13:30:00.000-08:00

The Tao Te Ching is really one of my favorite poem/books to read. The words strip any kind of tension from me and make life plain and simple. Oh how I love plain and simple!

I've wanted to take each section and post my thoughts or observations from it for a long time, but I always felt that my knowledge would stand out like a leafless tree in midsummer.

And all of a sudden my left brain kicked in with: "Bonehead! [Seriously, does it always have to call me that?] That's exactly why you should do it! People will be able to post their own thoughts and experiences to fill out the bare branches! Quit pretending to meditate and get it done."

So we start today! Or, I start on the branches and hopefully you'll fill in the leaves?

(By the way, I ignored my left brain and finished my meditation - even though it threw a little hissy fit for a couple of minutes.)

Verse 1
The Tao that can be told
is not the eternal Tao.
The name that can be named
is not the eternal Name.

Th unnamable is the eternally real.
Naming is the origin
of all particular things.

Free from desire, you realize the mystery.
Caught in desire, you see only the manifestations.

Yet mystery and manifestations
arise from the same source.
This source is called darkness.

Darkness within darkness.
The gateway to all understanding.

When my kids were little, the first thing I did was to teach them the names of everything.

I wish I hadn't.

When you give something a name it becomes an object, separate from you. It is a much different feeling when you walk down a path with no labels or names of the things around you. Eckart Tolle suggested to walk in nature without labeling or naming objects (Sorry if you aren't a Tolle fan! Get out of your judgmental left brain and just hear me out). The experience is much different. You feel connected to the beauty around you - not separate from it. This unnamable is the eternally real. Naming separates us into particular things.

When I experience nature or the people around me for who and what they are - not Jesse the gay man, Helen the woman with the anger issues, bagger lady at the grocery store who hates fruit - when we take all of the judgment and evaluations away...ahhh...we connect on a much deeper, more compassionate, more loving place. We are free of desire (i.e. expectations). We know the mystery!

When we don't, we live with our manifestations: judgment, racism, homophobia, hate, fear...which lead to everything from hateful feelings, fights, inner disharmony on a small scale to poverty, war, ethnic cleansing on a large scale.

So how can the Tao Te Ching also say that our manifestations and our mystery be rooted from the same source? Cause lemme tell ya, it sure feels different!

Well, I believe we can choose to cultivate compassion and love, but we can also choose to cultivate hate and fear. It's all there in the darkness. Just a matter of which you choose to develop.

And where you wish your understanding to be rooted.

Yin and Yang: Triumph and Humiliation

2009-01-26T13:17:00.001-08:00

I had to go grocery shopping today.

Don't know if you know this about me, but I hate shopping. Grocery shopping is the worst, but one must do it, because one must eat.

I hate the lights, the music, the crowd, the unending choices. But most of all the uncaring bagger person who always bruises my fruit and mooshes my bread. I walk out of there feeling like every cell in my body is vibrating in hypersensitivity. I just wanna get in, run through, and get the heck out.

But today would be different! I would stay present. Not be affected by the bazillion ridiculous choices we have of everything. I wouldn't become frustrated with those around me. I would not become angry with the bagger lady. I would try.

And today, I noticed something as I wound my way around, trying not to forget toilet paper and trash stickers (another post all together).

There is weird balance of flow and stagnation between people in a grocery store.

Like water in a creek.

Some people are like big rocks, completely unaware that they have positioned themselves to take up most of the aisle, slowing the flow. Sometimes they just position the cart so that it takes up the shelving area you want to get to. Like a couple of branches at the side of the creek that have caught leaves in their twining arms. You can eventually get what you want, but it takes some time.

There are others who whip through the aisles, either forcing you to the side like whitewater or allowing you to catch the wave they produced by riding right behind them and moving with their flow.

Flow and tranquility. Movement and stillness. Yin and yang.

I wasn't grocery shopping anymore! I was watching flow, part of flow. It was tai chi!

I waited in line. The aisles next to me flowed. Mine was stagnant.

Flow! Stagnation! More complementary opposites! Yin and yang. I was in my element!

I watched...waited. Gently began to place items on the conveyor belt. Feeling each item carefully, not breaking the flow of this experience.

With each item I lovingly placed on the item, with each scanner beep I heard as my carefully chosen item rolled down the conveyor belt there was a slight tightening of my existence. What's this? The flow became constricted. The coherence was disrupted. I looked up.

Into the eyes of my nemesis.

The bagger lady.

She was trained to place yin and yang in each and every bag. A can of tomato sauce on bread. Delicately ripened bananas wedged under a box of crackers and cereal. All the while staring right into a shopper's eyes. Almost in challenge.

There are times when you can't watch flow. Times when you can't just move with flow. You have to create it. You have to be the rudder in the stream. You have to guide yourself, move yourself in this water.

I grabbed the pears from her blunt-knuckled hands and gently placed them with the apples. I took out the soup can and put it in with the box of cereal.

"Yin and yang may not be in each bag," I told her gently, not realizing I had embodied the accent of Shaolin monk Kwai Chang Caine. "Yin bag, yang bag: all go in same cart." I said, softly. "Balance." I nodded to the bags and then gently bowed to her. "Have good day."

I walked slowly behind my grocery cart feeling at peace. I made it through. Not only was I not stressed out, but this time my fruit and bread were saved. I was triumphant.

Until I realized I had forgotten trash stickers and had to get back in line.

"Just trash stickers," I said quietly to the cashier. I glanced down at the bagger lady. She held my glance, then rolled her eyes and moved to the fruit and cans of the next line.

Balance, I thought. I was triumphant. I am now humiliated.

"Have good day," I said quietly to myself as I walked out.

Holding your pee

2009-01-15T16:14:00.000-08:00

Life in the left brain is like living with a constantly full bladder. You are always preoccupied.

You can function. You can pay bills, work with a client, send out emails, drive, feed the cat, design a web page, make coffee - many times doing these things at the same time. But even while multitasking, there's always that underlying noise, nagging you that there's more to do.

And then there's the ridiculous dancing from one foot to the other.

Allowing the right brain (peaceful observer) equal time really gets rid of the noise, the nagging, the preoccupation. The urine of life.

And the only way I know to reach the right brain through the noise of the left is meditation.

It quiets the left brain and introduces the peace of the right. So that when you are working with a client...you are working with a client. When you're feeding the cat, you're feeding the cat. When you are responding to an email. You got it. You're responding to an email. That's it. You are fully there to listen, feed, respond. You are clear.

When you are clear in your mind, you have the structure of the linear left mind that keeps you on track and the open awareness and acceptance of the all observer right brain, amazing things can take place in the body.

For me, the first shift came from breathing into the belly. One of the first times I tried to meditate, my respiratory system was blown away. I was breathing in and out. And I did it more than once. Over and over for like...an eternally long two minutes.

I didn't hold my breath on the inhale. I didn't take a big breath in and sigh it out. I just let the air come in evenly and release evenly. My lungs freaked.

"What the heck is this?! Air in? Air out? What? Balloon-lung look not in anymore?"

My lungs can be pretty sarcastic.

The breathwork in meditation is so nice and even that the respiratory system responds. Lungs not only were stronger in case studies, but lung capacity grew, and meditators were able to hold their breath for much longer periods of time. They also found that the even breathing of meditation increases the blood oxygen and allows it to adhere to blood more evenly.

And there are oodles of case studies (here's an interesting one) that go over the connection between meditation and cardiovascular health. In a healthy human if your breathing becomes nice and even, your heart rate is going to respond, raising your heart rate variability (HVR measures autonomic influences on the cardiovascular system. The autonomic system supplies, involuntarily, impulses to the smooth muscle tissues, glands and the muscles of the heart. It also controls the circulation of blood, body temperature, respiration rate and many other functions like salivation, urination, and digestive systems.

So when you're breathing evenly, the blood begins to flow evenly, oxygen is getting around and healing...lo and behold, the digestive systems begins to assimilate food better. Woo-hoo! No more fears about bending over in class anymore!

Because all systems: endocrine, nervous, cardio, digestive, respiratory, are connected, they are also all affected when you create a space for the right brain.

The hard thing is to make time to actually follow through with meditation. In the beginning just be good to yourself and don't give up. It takes practice just like anything else. You'll watch the clock. You'll hear noises and want to know what they are. You'll fall asleep. Your left brain will nag, nag, nag until you give up. Don't.

Add it into your day slowly:

Before you get out of your car. Pause. Breathe.
Before you set the toothbrush to your teeth. Pause. Breathe.
Before you pick up the phone. Pause. Breathe.
Before you get out of bed. Pause. Breathe.

These are mini-meditations that will help you ease into longer periods of time. And you can add an exercise on to the breathing: pause, breathe, feel your hands. Just feel them. Don't judge. Don't evaluate. Just see if you can feel the blood pulsing through them. Can you feel any sensations? Just feel, be aware. Let your right brain have a voice. It's pretty quiet, but it's powerful.

Now quit dancing and go pee.

Peace.

Good books on the brain:
My Stroke of Insight
Train Your Mind, Change Your Brain

Left, Right, Center

2009-01-04T12:26:00.000-08:00

Be still as a mountain,
move like a great river.
-Wu Yu-hsiang

If you're just starting out with meditation, staying present - or just practicing focusing on one thought - it can be difficult. What can end up happening is that a little "To Do" list will pop into your head, making sure to challenge your quiet moment.

"What am I doing?? I have to reply to that email from my boss! I can't forget to do that! Oh, Lord, if I don't do it now, I'll probably forget! I've been forgetting everything. Uhhhggg, I just remembered when I forgot my mother's birthday last year. That was fun. I felt sick. I had to pay $40 extra dollars to FedEx it there quickly to save face. Boy did she harass me for that. Speaking of payments, when did I last pay bills...I haven't paid bills this month! I can't be late for that too! Extra fees will kill me! I've got to look into that. And look at me! I'm just sitting here! Doing nothing!"

So, staying in your comfort zone, you jump up and head for the computer to pay online bills, return emails, and write a loving letter to your mother.

What is going on here? What is this voice that spits out so much worrisome information while we are trying to slow down and be still?

Inside of our lovely skull, cupped in it's strength, is our brain. A necessary organ that is still largely curious to researchers. It is divided into two hemispheres: left and right. The left is very analytical, allows us to critique, judge, analyze. The right behaves as a complete observer, not caring whether something is good or bad, right or wrong, it just observes and lets things unfold with curiosity and wonder. See the balance there? Both are necessary. You want to be able to judge a situation as safe or dangerous, using the left brain. You want to observe, and not judge, the smirk your mother makes when she opens your $20 gift in the $40 FedEx packaging, using the right brain. (Why, you ask? Because getting caught up in the emotion of your mother judging your gift, and the expense of how it got there, is a huge waste of your time. Get right-brained whenever you find yourself in this kind of situation. Step away from the drama!)

The left hemisphere is the one we Westerners are still having one remarkable love affair with. (Sorry about the hanging preposition - my detailed oriented, perfectionist left-brain won't let me move on without pointing that out.) The left brain is highly analytical, allowing us to problem solve, create sentence after sentence to communicate coherent paragraphs, to analyze, criticize, judge, make predictions, create and follow schedules. It is deeply needed in our Western environment.

When one overuses the left hemisphere is when the trouble starts. The left hemisphere - just as it did in our example above - takes any quiet moment and makes them loud in our heads. It guides us to think about and remember things that have happened in the past and propels us into the future to worry and fret over things that have yet to come. And the saddest thing about this is what we miss: the precious moment occurring right now.

And it's the right brain that allows us to be present. Present is all it knows. Right now, this moment.

But it takes practice.

The beginnings of meditation are difficult. The left brain acts like a spoiled brat. It has received constant attention from you for years and years, and now you want to focus your beam of light to the right hemisphere? Not without a fight. Those messages you get when you try to maintain quiet are the left hemisphere having a little hissy fit. It's fighting for your attention. The right brain, in it's laid back, non-judgmental never vies for your attention.

"Ah, well, it is what it is," the right hemisphere says as you jump up from a lotus position, or drop your arms from Standing Post, and give in to the 'to-do' list that the left hemisphere provided. The left hemisphere is happy because it has you back, the right hemisphere is happy, because it doesn't judge, and you are back in your comfort zone and feeling fine...

Except for the occasional acid reflux. Oh, and the fluctuating blood pressure. Well, then, there's the lower back pain. Okay, and to be honest, the daily anger, bad moods, feelings of depression, impatience with close friends and family, and the constant criticism of others when really all you want is peace.

And you realize, clearly, that practicing being in the right brain might just be a good thing.

Next post: Entering into the right brain, watching body functions shift in 'observer' mode.

Of Mice and Men

2008-12-15T09:53:00.000-08:00

I try to practice taiji outside. For three reasons, mostly: I like it, there isn't enough room in my house, and my cat winds through my feet or continually plops down wherever I am stepping. It's good practice, actually, but sometimes I'd rather not have him around.

Several years ago I was practicing 'intention' which is one of the 10 Essentials of taiji practice. You can practice taiji with no intention, but it doesn't really count as taiji. It's really just moving around slowly. Which is fine, if you like to move around slowly with no intention. But don't try in any busy public place because people will intentionally push you over.

Okay, so back to my intention of writing about intention:

It was 4:30 in the morning. I couldn't find my shoes and didn't want to wake my husband rummaging around for them. Spiders walking in the basement wake him up. So I went out in bare feet to practice.

My intention most times is on my invisible taiji opponent. When she strikes, I block. When she kicks, I catch her kick and strike back by kicking at the knee of her standing leg. When she strikes to my jaw, I step out with my right foot, blocking upward with my arm and throw her over my leg.

Oh, please. Don't feel sorry for her, I wouldn't have to do these things if she wasn't able to keep coming back at me.

So this day I chose to practice taiji with the intention of bringing qi to my hands. It was a simple intention, and I was practicing keeping intention throughout the form. Could my simple brain stay focused on bringing intention to my hands throughout the 64 movements? Or would it get bored and start thinking about some miserable thing that happened 15 years ago; or worry about possible phone calls I was missing; or bug me about an email I had to return.

So, I began first with a few deep quiet breaths, feeling my hands. Just feeling them. I sensed the warmth and tingling there and felt it move up my arms. My intention was in my hands, but at the same time, when you practice taiji, you are aware of what is happening around you. Even though it's pitch black at 4:30 a.m. you still sense the bushes are where they are. You feel the dewy grass beneath your feet. You breathe in the air, are aware of your connection to the earth and the sky.

And I move. With my hands feeling full, I move. I breathe, folding into the qua, foot moving back slowly, arms are light, sense of self disappears, sense of duality disappears, I move with everything around me. I move. And my hands are very clear in the landscape I am part of. I sense them most. I feel them pulsing as a sense of peace and connection fosters itself inside me. I am moving as one, as a whole.

Until shearing pain cuts into the bottom of my foot. I disconnect. I am me entirely and not whole. My hands are lost.

I drop down and lift my foot, seeing a gray mouse hanging there whose last possible breath was made defending itself against my weight.

Now what? Do I save a dying mouse? Do I get a tetanus shot? Do I continue my form with a mouse stuck to my foot?

You know, a master would have felt the dying mouse's qi BEFORE he stepped down, crushing more of its tiny bones. You know nothing. Go inside and move around slowly without intention so you don't hurt anything.

It reminded me of another time I was practicing (again, in my backyard - this time with shoes on) and at the end, for some reason, I really felt a connection to the tulip tree in our back yard. I walked over to it. Looked up at it and it's beautiful green leaves and orangey tulip blooms. It was beautiful.

My instinct said: Hug it!
My brain said: Don't be ridiculous.
My instinct said: HUG it!
My brain said: Grow up.
My instinct said: HUG IT!!

So I was in my backyard and said pllltthhh to my brain and I slowly put my arms around the tree and gave it a great, big hug!

I pulled my arms off just as fast. I don't know what the hell was on that tree, but it must have been squirrel barf or something. It was all over my hands.

UHHHGGG!

I don't know if I want to analyze why these things happen. But I'm looking at my cat right now weaving through my legs. Looking for a perfect place to plop down and get comfy.

I guess the "best laid plans of mice and men often go awry".

Peace.

Weightless

2008-12-07T06:14:00.000-08:00

It's there.

Relentless, unpredictable burning, pressured body pain. Shifting sears an invisible heated knife through her body so swiftly there isn't time to retract the movement. It shocks, paralyzes for moments.

I can hear it through the phone. Sometimes it speaks louder than she does. Sometimes I feel it before I hear her voice answer the phone.

It's a dead weight resting on her raw spine. Reaching out lazily, plucking at nerves. Confusing her immune system to attack healthy tissue. Commanding attention by acting out.

And all I can do is witness it.

Helpless.

Sometimes I feel her pain physically. Sometimes emotionally. Sometimes both. Sometimes I shut it down. I can't look at it. I can't read it. I can't hear it. I can't feel it. I can't.

And there are other times. Times when my shen (spirit-mind) can slip like satin into a place that supports me, weightless. From above I'm suspended. From below I'm grounded. There is no pain, there is no euphoria. There is only observation...this moment...now...now...now...

I am part of something larger...just one small piece of something larger. Unending. Infinite. And I am tiny.

Throughout the day I practice being in this place...then I've realized I slipped away and I move back in...fluctuating between energies of blocked intense emotion to...flowing peace.

In your pained state, you need flowing peace. In your pained state, I do too. I practice observing from my tiny piece, my place in the whole. I practice being. I practice...not always successful...an open, flowing, peaceful part of the whole. I practice being responsible for the energy I bring with me.

The yield of Thanksgiving

2008-11-25T12:02:00.000-08:00

In the states we're getting ready to gather together for Thanksgiving. As a kid and young adult, I always looked forward to the holidays with family. Every year, in my little fantasy world, I imagined family gatherings with laughing, great conversation, sharing, deepening connections.

You know, fantasy.

Because the reality of it is this: there are some family members I've just handed the steering wheel to and allowed them to drive me nuts. I have a really hard time with: racists, elitists, manipulators, semantic nit-pickers, viciously sarcastic, materialistic, neglectful, and self-centered. Ironically enough, they all exist in this lovely extended family with whom I spend the holidays.

(Private conversation with universe:
Me, with sarcasm: "Thank you so much, universe, for always thinking of my personal growth!"
Universe: well, the universe never responds verbally, does it? It just kind of lets you know subtlety. )

And if I were really honest, (which I'm not going to be because I'm not ready. Although if you just read this entry the answers float pretty quickly to the top) some of those personality issues probably reside in me as well. Someone, somewhere, at some point said something like this, but don't quote me on it: "What frustrates you in someone else is the same thing that frustrates you about yourself."

So, when someone would hit me with, let's say, a racist comment, my initial response had always been to hit back: hard and fast. That was how we were raised in our family. Immediately shut down someone who was WRONG. (And, of course, we inherently knew what wrong was, being the elitists we were!) Then, between the two of us, whoever had the stronger words, the pithier statement, won.

It's very similar to a physical fight. Whoever is stronger, wins.

And what was the result? The racist's ostracized fear deepened. My elitism strengthened.

Hmmm...not exactly the true outcome I wanted.

When I started practicing taiji, I learned a concept called "yielding." Yielding, in taiji, is the ability to allow your opponent's strike to come in. As you yield to that strike, (by deflection or rotation) you are able to move with it so that you aren't absorbing the hit, you are one with it. When you yield, you don't get hurt. Sometimes the opponent wonders, "What happened? I threw a punch, but my opponent disappeared!" Sometimes the opponent hurts himself because he's thrown a punch so forcefully and you yielded so gently that he falls forward and ends up on the ground.

When you don't yield, painful things can happen. You don't move with the strike, you absorb it and you get hurt.

The same is true with a verbal toss. The racist makes a comment and when I absorb it as a strike, I feel pain. When I choose to return the strike, the fight doesn't end. We take our scars and our deepened fears and elitism and move on to the next battle.

But when I yield to a racist comment, I can hear the truth of the statement: deep, ostracized fear. When I yield and connect, the racist comment dissolves, the frightened human stands. And there is where true communication can exist. Even if the person leaves with racist ideas intact, they have not left the conversation unchanged. They were connected to with compassion for what their racism really is: deep ostracized fear. And it didn't deepen.

And my elitism didn't either.

And that is something to be truly thankful for.

Here's what the Tao Te Ching has to say about it...although, you know...I'm not sure Lao Tzu was actually thinking about Thanksgiving and holiday gatherings with family...but you know what I mean:

Tao Te Ching - trans. Stephen Mitchell
69

The generals have a saying:
'Rather than make the first move
it is better to wait and see.
Rather than advance an inch
it is better to retreat a yard.'

This is called
going forward without advancing,
pushing back without using weapons.

There is no greater misfortune
than underestimating your enemy.
Underestimating your enemy
means thinking that he is evil.
Thus you destroy your three treasures
and become an enemy yourself.

When two great forces oppose each other,
the victory will go
to the one who knows how to yield.

When I was younger, I never saw the beauty in yielding. But this is another Thanksgiving where I am moving into the holiday season with love and compassion...and hoping that others will help me dissolve my elitism.

Whew. There. I admitted it.

For those who are celebrating Thanksgiving, I hope you have a deeply thankful, connected, loving time...

I suppose I'd like that for everyone, actually.

Peace.

Kidneys: The Root of Life?

2008-11-19T13:09:00.000-08:00

Yep. That's what they've been called.

Well, not in the mid-west where I'm from.

We picture the kidneys as...well...big honkin' kidney beans that hang out inside of us somewhere. Who knows, maybe that's what's causing the intestinal gas.

The kidneys are each about the size of your fist. They are located near the middle of your back, just behind the lower ribcage. We are born with two of them - one on each side of the spine. (One is usually up a little higher than the other, if that helps the visual.)

They're important, very important. The poor things are constantly, constantly working to keep your blood composition in a healthy balance. They regulate the volume of water in your blood. They make sure important ions and other substances are at the right level and at the correct concentration in the blood stream. They remove yick from your body - yick is a personal technical term meaning: the junk you've put into your body in the form of polluted air, fast food, chemically-ridden city water, and stress. The somewhat real technical terms are: urea, toxic substances, ammonia, etc.

The kidneys even help regulate your blood pressure, help maintain calcium (very important for women in my age group) and they also stimulate the creation of red blood cells - the ones that carry oxygen everywhere in the body - i.e. really important for healing.

But in eastern medicine, the kidneys do this and more. The kidneys store what is called "Essence" or "Innate Jing", or if you will, hereditary energy you received from your parents. Kinda like other things you inherited: hair and eye color, skin coloring, and short stubby little brittle nails that never grow long enough to scratch an itch with. (Thanks a lot, Dad.)

This hereditary energy is expended throughout your life. When it's gone, you're gone.

So, it's important to maintain your Essence for as long as you would like to live. And you do that by not using it up eating poorly, breathing poor air, driving while talking on a cell phone, etc. You can't increase your Essence. It is what it is. You can, however, take hereditary energy supplements. But not from the local drug store.

These supplements come in the form of qi, life energy, and you get it from eating good foods, breathing clean air (sorry, I know most of us can't fully control our immediate environments), getting good amounts of exercise, and ridding yourself of stress.

So, how does one rid stress from their lives? Get a good teacher and practice tai chi. Or yoga. Or glass blowing. Or kite flying. It doesn't matter what it is as long as it: helps you breathe deeply and evenly, keeps your sitting heart rate low, maintains healthy blood pressure, and keeps your mind clear. Clear of thoughts that cause emotional stress - like constant ridicule, or judgemental thoughts (which come in many different forms including humor), anger or hostile thoughts, panicked thoughts of insecurity, and thoughts of inferiority.

There are a lot more, but you get the drift.

These kinds of intense emotions really rock the kidneys (never say 'stone' to a kidney).

They do it figuratively and physically.

The adrenal glands lay on top of each kidney. They kick into gear when we choose to feel stressed out. They start shootin' out hormones like an AK-47 on fire. When they start vibrating, the kidneys do too. That's why we always feel like we have to go to the bathroom when we're really nervous.

So here's a good starting exercise to bring health to the kidneys. This is one of many qigong (energy work) exercises from Master Yu-Cheng Huang:

Info you'll need to know for this exercise:
Laogong Point - the laogong is located on the palm of the hand. If you take your middle finger and touch your palm, you've found it!

It really helps, when doing the following exercise, to be as relaxed as your body can at this moment in time. The shoulders are in their natural position - not forced back, the feet are relaxed and not clenching the floor, breathwork is slow and even. The pelvis is slightly tilted forward to round out the lower back. The crown of the head is the tallest point of the body.

1. Bring your attention to the palm of your hands. Don't picture your hands in your head. Feel them. Concentrate on the laogong point. Imagine yourself bringing energy to this point. Now, place the palms of your hands or the laogong points on the back over the kidney area.

3. Take a nice breath in expanding the belly, not the chest. As you do this, imagine energy entering into the laogong. Exhale and imagine the energy releasing into the kidneys. While breathing, the hands move...rub...from the kidneys to the coccyx (tailbone). When inhaling, the hands move up, when exhaling, the hands move down. Repeat this exercise between 9 and 36 times.

4. When the hands are at the kidneys and you have inhaled, imagine that you have sealed the energy in the kidneys and count to 9. Imagine that energy now moving to the dantien while your hands move around the sides of the body and create an inverted triangle with the thumbs and index fingers on the dantien. Allow you mind to seal the energy in the dantien.

If anything, this exercise allows you to take a moment to breath - even if you can't imagine the energy, can't feel the palms of the hands, can't imagine sealing anything, anywhere. It's okay. It takes time to settle into new practices. Give it time.

So now let me ask you a question: When's the last time you had a glass of water?

Well, go get one. Hold it high and toast your kidneys. They've been working hard.

Don't forget to drink the water.

Peace.

stillness in movement

2008-11-16T19:50:00.000-08:00

Where is your stillness?
When someone is talking to you. Do you stop typing and look them in the eye?

Where is your stillness?
Can you hear their words? Stripped of emotion or drama? Can you sit with them, look at them, for all of the moments they need, before you respond?

Where is your stillness?
Can you listen without working at forming a response, without finishing another's sentence, without thinking of what you were doing, without thinking what you would rather do?

Where is your stillness?
Can you only be still when the lights are low, when you're in the right space, when the nose can smell only just what it wants?

Where is your stillness?
Can you sit in your living room? Just sit for a moment? Can you be there without a laptop, without the television, without the radio, without the mp3? Can you feel the couch supporting you? Can you feel your feet on the floor? Just for that moment can you feel?

Where is your stillness?
Can you cook in the kitchen? Just cook? Nothing else? Can you touch the ingredients? Can you bring them to your nose? Can you smell them? Can you feel the working utensil in your hand? Is it firm, soft, strong? Can you smell the aromas again as they mix together?

Where is your stillness?
Can you drive? Just drive? Can you feel the steering wheel in your hands? Can you feel the immense weight of the vehicle? Can you sense the steel as it moves so close to other lives?

Where is your stillness?
Can you lay in bed? Just lay? Can you feel the mattress supporting your body? Can you feel the sheet? Can you feel lightness and cool underneath it? Can you feel a blanket? A quilt or comforter? Can you feel warmth? Can you feel the extra layers? Can you lay down? Just lay?

Where is your stillness?
Can you breathe? Just breathe? No thoughts? Can you feel your lungs expand? Can you feel the air coming in? Gently moving out? Feel it coming in again? Expanding? Slow or fast? Short or long? Can you feel it either way? Can you just feel?

In your life - your life - where do you create stillness?

Pop Quiz!

2008-11-13T04:51:00.001-08:00

Don't you love the tests the universe gives?

If you don't do well...no worries!! The universe ALWAYS gives you another chance.

Even if you do well - you've aced that test - if the universe thinks that you might just need the test again...well, VOILA!!! The test presents itself!

Yet again.

And again.

Damned pop quizzes.

So the pop quiz for me came last night during my tai chi class.

A new person arrived to take the class, and it became clear to me that he was not there for tai chi. He showed no interest. He looked toward the ceiling in boredom when the class was working on fundamentals. He only made eye contact when smirking at others. He asked questions about my background, but interrupted the answers with his own.

After class I found out he studies with another teacher whom I don't know. He's here to...well, I still don't really know - and that really isn't the issue. The issue is that I wanted to punch him in the face.

In taiji, when an opponent's force comes in, you are relaxed, you yield and deflect. You shift to your opponent's incoming energy so that he/she can't connect to your root, control you, and knock you down. That's a tenet of internal martial arts like taiji.

It's very similar to not allowing yourself to get emotional over situations. If someone insults you, you yield and deflect the insult by being grounded in your being. You are. And nothing can shake that. You smile and are still at peace.

I was not so grounded in my being. I felt the need to defend my class, my self, my teaching...my ego...for many minutes after class.

I finished tidying up the studio. Took a nice deep breath. I am. It is. Words dissolve. Emotions settle. I smile and feel at peace. And I laugh because I screwed up the test again.

But that's okay. I'm sure I'll get another chance.

Peace.

Staying even

2008-11-08T13:28:00.000-08:00

"A girl cries as she carries a sibling on a search for their parents in Kiwanja, Congo. Nearby U.N. peacekeepers were unable to protect the villagers, a rights group said."

Jerome Delay, Associated Press

This photograph shot into me yesterday. I couldn't stop looking at it. I cried. That tiny child, the pain, the fear. And the brave sister, such a young child herself, pain, fear, forced out of childhood.
I felt it. It just kept jabbing my insides and I just cried.

I'm still having a hard time looking at it without tearing up - and judging the pain I've been through. Judging that it hasn't been nearly as tough, nearly as painful, nearly as full of suffering.

I can't do it anymore. I walk away from the paper and sit down in another room. I flip through the Tao Te Ching...here's the verse I turn to:

Verse 29

Do you want to improve the world?
I don't think it can be done.

The world is sacred.
It can't be improved.
If you tamper with it, you'll ruin it.
If you treat it like an object, you'll lose it.

There is a time for being ahead,
a time for being behind;
a time for being in motion,
a time for being at rest;
a time for being vigorous,
a time for being exhausted;
a time for being safe,
a time for being in danger.

The Master sees things as they are,
without trying to control them.
She lets them go their own way,
and resides at the centre of the circle.

Happy again to say I'm from Ohio

2008-11-05T05:03:00.000-08:00

I was woken up last night by a loud crash. Turned on the t.v. and found out the glass ceiling barring people of color to the presidency of this country lay sparkling on the floor.

There's some sweeping up to do, and through my tears of joy, I'm going to work.

Solid, Liquid, Gas

2008-11-04T06:25:00.001-08:00

I'm downstairs in the basement waiting for the spin cycle to end when I notice a glass of water on a short, plastic shelving unit next to the washer. The shelf is where the detergent hangs out and other laundry things that I sweep out of the washer at the end of a cycle - like pebbles, coins, hair bands, an occasional dead beetle. I'm assuming it's from my kids' pockets, but I've never asked. Who knows, maybe my husband is a closet entomologist.

So, here I am, checking out the water in the cup. It's vibrating like mad, which is cool. But then I realize that the shelf is free standing, not touching the vibrating washer. So the water in the cup is responding to the vibration of the washer through the cement floor and up the plastic shelf. I touched the shelf to feel the vibration.

Nothing.

I couldn't feel anything at all. But the water - so sensitive - was really vibrating.

The cycle stopped and slowly the water became calm.

Watching this unfold immediately made me think of a couple of days ago when I got a phone call from someone I let shake me up. She called to question me about a blog entry I had written. She didn't understand why I was writing about something that I had experienced a few years ago and 'passing it off' as if it had happened recently.

It's clear, when you read the entire entry, that the experience did take place in the past. But she hadn't read the entire entry.

I was ticked off. And I was short with her on the phone. And I took that short, ticked-off feeling and lovingly spread it to everyone I had contact with for the next half hour. Nice, huh?

Rather than seeing her questioning just as it was - questioning - I also added the baggage of our relationship to it, thinking "Here we go again, she's got to start off the conversation by criticizing me." "She hasn't even read the entire entry and she's complaining about it!" "Once again she's just trying to undermine something that I'm enjoying." Blah Blah Blah.

So, washer, cup of water, phone call, pissy mood. How do these possibly link up?

The caller was the washer, creating vibrations. I was the glass, allowing her vibrations to literally move me, shake me and control my flow. And each one of my negative mental responses were adding more vibration to the cup. I wasn't physically attached to the person talking to me, but I was moving to every word that was said. Just like the cup wasn't touching the washer, but it was totally reacting to it.

I realize all of this was brought forth in a weak attempt to protect my ego from shots that only exist because I have an ego! If I didn't have an ego, I probably wouldn't have even felt the vibrations, let alone reacted to them.

So, the imagery of this leads me to the stages of water - liquid, solid, gas. Liquid feels good to me - flow, allowing yourself to mold into any shape at any time. Steam - the ability to expand and connect. Steam can reach all places, it's big, expansive and connects. And ice - solid, stable, rooted.

You notice that all of these qualities are needed in taiji practice? Ice- you have to have a solid, strong foundation to your stances, a solid structure to you posture, to your intention. Liquid - you have to be relaxed and flexible to move flawlessly through postures, to allow energy to come in and to be released. Steam - to be present, expansive, connected to your opponent.

And all of the qualities are needed in life relationships too. What a great relationship if you were solid in your being, relaxed and flexible enough to accept others as they are, present and connected to those around you?

That would rock.

So thank you, caller, for giving me insight into my ego driven slosh. And I'm sorry for the short, ticked off conversation we had. I have some work to do.

And thank you washer, for reminding me that I don't always have to be water, reacting to everything.

And for clean clothes.

***Hey, if you haven't gotten the phone call yet: today is Election Day.***

Observer Mode

2008-10-29T12:51:00.000-07:00

Observing is one of the hardest things for me to do during an election year.

If anything gets me into my analytical, judgmental, critical, left-hemisphere mind, it's politics. I've decided I'm really not mature enough to watch debates.

Or newscasts.

Or commercials.

Or even yard signs, really.

During a previous election in my lifetime, candidates couldn't even get through a sentence without me shaking my fist at the television set and yelling about how just how wrong, wrong! WRONG!! they were. Of course, the only thing listening to me back then was my cat. And he just ran out of the room.

So, I have gotten better. Cause, isn't the first step to admit you have a problem?

So anyway, here's the taiji twist to all of this. When I started practicing taiji, I enjoyed the movements, was able to relax my body, felt good and energized afterward. But something was missing.

My mind (yi) really was still focusing on where my foot was being placed, what the application of the movement was, whether my posture was correct. I was working on becoming relaxed, but not collapsed - sung is the Chinese term for relaxed in the body and mind, with structure to the body. These are all fine focus points when learning the form and practicing. But, again, I got to a point where I really felt something was missing.

In fact, at the time, I thought to myself, is this it? Is this all I'm going to get out of taiji? I mean, it's nice and all, but so is knitting. (And really it is, especially with all those new funky yarns! Have you seen them? Well, that's another post...)

So I was doing some reading on the brain, and I realized that we have two lovely hemispheres that sit inside our heads. The left hemisphere, simplifying things, is our analytical hemisphere that gives structure to our lives. It helps us remember deadlines, appointments, that we shouldn't drink turpentine - you know, important stuff.

But we in the Western world have a love affair with the left hemisphere. We, in general, admire people who are researchers, engineers, doctors, lawyers, people who are seemingly - using our analytical left hemisphere - better than others. We idolize gifted people - even at an early age. We separate the gifted from the mainstream in classrooms. And we really don't have patience for those who are not "thinkers."

The right hemisphere, on the other hand, allows us to become observers of everything - without analyzing, without judging or criticizing, without saying something is better, worse, more, less, right, wrong. The right hemisphere allows us to observe that everything...just is. And that doesn't get you a high paying job in this country.

But after reading this it really hit me. My taiji practice was missing...me! I was so busy analyzing what I was doing correctly and incorrectly that I hadn't allowed myself to enter into my right hemisphere and just observe. Just feel, without analyzing!

For months and months, I practiced without thinking. When a thought would come in, I would acknowledge it and let it go. It was difficult to stop criticising my form - I was so used to analyzing everything! Just being in the form took practice. Lots of practice.

But I found that once I released critical thinking, and gave my right hemisphere equal time, my body really began to respond. Not only in a martial sense - I was much more relaxed and grounded, my stances were stronger, my ability to respond to an opponent was faster (because I didn't take time to think about it) and more accurate - but I tested my blood pressure, which lowered. I tested my pulse, which, over time, went from (at rest) 72 bpm to 53 bpm. My breathing was much slower and deeper.

I also know that when even one bodily process, like breathing, stabilizes, it allows other processes to shift as well. Digestion, cardiovascular, lymphatic, endocrine. This is the reason Taiji is not just a martial art. The whole body responds when we make these shifts.

But the most wonderful thing happened that I didn't expect. This whole right-brain thing filtered into the rest of my life. My need to point out wrongs, innacuracies, hypocracies - whether it was a politician's, my own, a family member's, or friends - became much less important. What grew in it's place was an observation: I can let things...be.

And when that happens, I feel much more at ease. And so do others around me.

So, no, I haven't gotten to the point where I can watch endless commercials about candidates. I still have a hard time watching debates.

Instead, I just get into that observer mode and play taiji.

And my cat lays on the floor and watches.

Tao Te Ching
Translated by Stephen Mitchell

2
When people see some things as beautiful,
other things become ugly.
When people see some things as good,
other things become bad.

Being and non-being create each other.
Difficult and easy support each other.
Long and short define each other.
High and low depend on each other.
Before and after follow each other.

Therefore, {one} acts
without doing anything
and teaches without saying anything.
Things arise and she lets them come;
things disappear and she lets them go.
She has but doesn't possess,
acts but doesn't expect.
When her work is done, she forgets it.
That is why it lasts forever.

Balance...ecnalaB

2008-10-22T14:23:00.000-07:00

The symbol of Tai Ji (you can see the image to the left, under the poem by Ts'ai-ken T'an) is a symbol almost everyone knows, but most just call it the "Yin Yang" symbol. And that is what it represents. Yin and Yang.

What is so cool about this theory is how it really represents a duality in life. Both yin and yang exist. In everything. At all times. Kind of like electron particles behaving like waves. Duality.

Which totally makes sense to me, because I've never truly felt black and white about anything. (Which is probably why my gall bladder keeps acting up. It's supposed to the the main organ involved in decision making. Sigh.)

So you may know that Yang represents the sun, heaven, active, bright. Yin represents the moon, earth, rest, shade. And when I ask anyone around here to quantify those qualities - ask them which are good qualities, which would they have in their lives - they all point to the yang qualities. (Except for moms with newborns. They're always lured by the word "rest.")

So I'm not sure what this means. Is it because our culture (I'm speaking of American culture) that we vibrate to yang qualities? Remember when people used to say "active"? It's not good enough for us, we have to be "pro-active." We've got to be plugged in to something - computer, music, cell phone, gameboys, television, i-whatevers, cube-thingies, x-baggies. Our kids are even trained at a young, young age to think fast, move (in their games, anyway) fast, eat fast.

I read an article by a Buddhist monk who reminisced about a bell that rang three times a day in his village. Every time the bell rang, everyone in the village stopped. They just stopped and became aware.

For several minutes they held that space, filling it with compassion and love. And soon, grounded again, they resumed their day.

Wow. What an incredible thing that must have been. A whole village stopping to just be. Can you imagine the power of that? That would just be the coolest thing.

So, tonight I'm going to try it with my family and then I'm off to teach class and I'm going to try it there, too.

I'll let you know how it goes.

Hey! You try it too. Freak people out at work or in a classroom or in a grocery store: bring in a bell, ring it and then just stand there smiling, appreciating life.

What's the point?

2008-10-21T08:13:00.000-07:00

Sometimes life becomes so routine that it seems pointless. We wake up in the morning and do precisely what we did yesterday morning with just a few variations on the theme - like making a turkey sandwich for lunch instead of marinated, grilled tofu on Italian bread (along with some grilled veggies - it really does make a good sandwich). We do our morning thing and for many of us it's off to whatever work we do to pay for our shelter, food and clothing. We come home and do the same thing we did the previous Tuesday evening. Or Wednesday evening, which ever you happened to be living at the time you are reading this.

Why, for instance, do I create designs? (I'm a graphic designer by trade) I know what the end purpose is going to be. The bottom line is that my design should entice someone, somewhere to spend money.

That's it.

"Really? That's it?" I ask myself.

"Pretty much," comes the answer.

And then I feel this chasm deep, deep within open up...somewhere inside. I feel a strange sensation for just a moment.

My soul has left.

"Really?" I ask again a little more quietly.

No answer.

So when I'm feeling as though nothing I am doing really is beneficial to anything or anyone I tend to feel separate. Alone. Unconnected to anything or anyone in many ways.

And what I have to get back is connection.

That's where my taiji practice comes in. It reminds me that even though I'm judging my life to be worthless, I may not be privy to the bigger picture.

And today a friend emailed a quote to me that reminded me that I do not have the power to see everything:

Take care of yourself — you never know when the world will need you.

-Rabbi Hillel

One of the first practices I do when I'm feeling disconnected is an exercise from Rick Barrett's "Taijiquan: Through the Western Gate". If you don't have it and you're a taiji player, get it. It's good.

"1. The exercise is best done while standing with your feet at hip-width, knees unlocked, body relaxed and arms hanging at the side. Notice how your hands feel. Take your time. This establishes a benchmark.
2. Now bring your awareness to the fingers of one hand for thirty to sixty seconds. You want to actually feel your fingers, not just think about them. Sometimes it helps to move the fingers of one hand slightly. Notice the sensations in the fingers of this hand. Expand your awareness to the space around your hands."

Barrett goes on to say that focusing your conciousness leads your qi, and qi leads blood flow and circulation. You may feel sensations in your palms when you do this practice - tingling, fullness, pulsing - one of my students described it as humming.

Whenever I practice this exercise, I become aware of the "Qi Network". Qi is part of everything. Qi is energy and if something absorbs and emits energy - whether it's a rock sitting in the sun or me standing feeling my palms - it's got qi.

As soon as I connect in, I know I'm not alone. I know that my purpose may not be defined in the job that I do currently. I become aware that I am part of a network that depends on my stability and strength because my connection to the network allows others to connect. My breaking the connection doesn't just affect me.

In other words, my choosing to feel worthless in my life will directly affect the relationship I have with husband, my children and other people who have to deal with me.

Who knows, maybe a change in jobs is what I need. But I won't be able to make any coherent changes if I'm disconnected and depressed.

I was participating in a conference workshop led by Rick Barrett and Nina (Sugawara) Deerfield a few years ago that really put everything into perspective. The workshop led us through exercises that allowed us to enter into what they labeled "energetic coherence". One of the things it did was it allowed me to let go of my ego-based, critical, judgmental left brain hemisphere, and enter into my observer, peaceful, utopian right brain. Doing this allowed me to feel (not think) and sense people around me. So instead of Mary, (she has blond hair and an obnoxious voice) and Tony (he's so much better than I am at jump kicks) the people around me just were. Nothing more. Nothing less.

There were about 20 or so people. I felt each and every one of them. I didn't think about them. I felt them. Their presence, their energy. And all of a sudden an image came to my mind. It was fabric just billowing. It looked similar to the way a large body of water does when wind blows over it. And the fabric was all of us connected. The amazing thing was that there were areas in the fabric that were frayed, fraying, or mighty thin. While other areas were thick, strong, supportive. And I knew that because we were all connected, the fraying would affect us all. And because we were all connected, the supportive areas would help hold us all.

I want to be that strong, supportive area.

Even when the job I do every day may not seem important -even to me.

Sung: It's not just for former singers

2008-10-19T09:34:00.000-07:00

Hmmm...think about how many times you've been looking forward to just collapsing on the couch with a good movie and a glass of your favorite sippin' juice.

Body is nice and comfy laying there. Sippin' juice is cool - or warm, you know, depending on what you like. Muscles finally able to relax after a long week of working or studying...ahhh...

But what's this?? What do my spidey senses pick up? Outwardly the body isn't doing anything, it's true, but something on the radar is being picked up. An unholy buzz. We look deeper to find it...

A lot of times, even though we think we're relaxed on the couch, our brain continues to analyze... produce thoughts, ideas and opinions. It continues to think critically, pass judgment. The brain is not disconnected from the rest of the body. When the brain is working on all of these ideas, it's also sending out messages for the body to respond. So when something you are watching on television invites you to become involved emotionally, your whole body gets involved.

And it's anything BUT relaxed. The brain sends a message to the adrenals to move out some epinephrine into the system to take care of the incoming stress that is being perceived. The heart rate also increases along with blood pressure. Your organs also respond by slowing down to conserve energy for fighting the perceived stress. Which, in turn, causes gas, diarrhea, or possibly constipation. Maybe a hemorrhoid or two?

Never realized how dangerous laying on a couch could be, huh?

It'll kill you.

Okay, maybe not. What will kill you over time, or at least play a negative role on your longterm health, is stress. And we have to understand the real definition of relaxation.

It isn't collapsing on a couch for an evening, trails of the weeks antics leading your around and around in your mind.

In taiji the word is "sung" (also "song") and it means relaxed, but in a much deeper sense that we in the western world have misplaced somewhere. Sung is a relaxed body, but a body that also has structure. Sung is a relaxed spirit open to its surroundings, but not relying on them. The spirit is even: not overjoyed, not depressed. Sung is a relaxed mind: clear of thoughts that create drama - like a political election or a topic like abortion. When you are sung, these things just are. Not right or wrong. Not good or bad. Not evil or saintly. They just are.

In a sung place it is quiet. It is even. It just is.

And you create sung - whether it starts in a dim room by yourself for three minutes every day, just allowing your mind, body and spirit to be; or when it is during a heated confrontation with a co-worker who you struggle to understand.

With your mind, spirit and body not reacting - it learns to respond...from a place of compassion, love and connection.

Next time you feel exhausted and want to lie on the couch - go ahead. But remember the exhaustion extends to your spirit, your mind and your body. Give them all a break. Breathe in. Breathe out. Follow your breath as it expands and releases your belly. Let your thoughts dissolve and keep following your breath with your mind. Allow yourself to release your anxious spirit and tense body.

Become sung.

2008-10-16T18:15:00.000-07:00

I'll never forget the first tai chi class I checked out. We had just moved to Columbus, Ohio and my husband was kinda getting on me for not finding a local sensei to keep up with my karate.

I was also pregnant with my first child.

And emotional.

And not always patient.

Or nice.

Which is why my husband wanted me to leave and go to karate class.

His eyes pleaded with me: "A little break from your mood swings...please?" they pined, hoping that I was going to drop the newspaper I was currently looking at and check out the yellow pages for local dojos.

I couldn't really picture myself doing a round house kick with mother earth sticking out of my uniform. It also didn't seem natural for me to spar with a young fetus growing inside me. It just felt...wrong somehow. Like when I go into a girls clothing store and see skimpy, low cut tops for 8-year-olds. It just feels...wrong.

So, karate...didn't feel natural.

I sat there with the newspaper, avoiding my husband's longing stare when a little article grabbed my attention. It was just a simple listing for a tai chi class. I tore it out and showed it to my husband.

He sighed in relief.

In retrospect, I think at that point, he would have sighed in relief if I had shown him an ad for wrestling boar goats.

Anyway, I don't actually remember the class. I just remember the feeling I had afterward: I was home.

Just watching tai chi dissolved my tension. It created space where I didn't see any before. There was more of an area to breathe into. I was mesmerized by the class as they flowed in and out of one movement to the next. I didn't know where one posture began or ended and I liked that. That felt right. There was no beginning or end. There just...was.

And I was home.

And my husband was happy, too.